


Forever Entwined

by theWickedWitchofFeels



Category: Wicked - Schwartz/Holzman
Genre: Bittersweet, F/F, Gelphie, I Don't Even Know, One Shot, death? sort of?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-07 21:31:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4278630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theWickedWitchofFeels/pseuds/theWickedWitchofFeels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Returning to a ship I haven't written for in ages, Gelphie, for a post-Finale thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forever Entwined

“But if you’ll let me, I’d like to try to help.  
I’d like to try to be...Glinda the Good.” 

…

 

Glinda’s throat had not released since uttering those words. Not through all the mind numbing celebration that followed, not through all the fireworks and songs and cheers uttered in jubilation of the Wicked Witch’s death. Glinda had always loved parties. But this one, this one was different. She could not forget what it was celebrating. And time had never worn away that ache. 

She threw her wand to the floor brutally one night, weeks after the event, slamming the thankfully thick wooden door behind her and sliding down against her, her shoulders shaking with sobs but not a single tear falling. She wondered if she still remembered how to cry. She stood abruptly and ripped her dress off, discarding the puffy white fabric and kicking it away where she need not look at it, leaving her standing in the middle of her spacious room in her underwear, bra and crown - 

She took off the crown, and it was as if instead of the delicate thing she held a rough black, leathery witch’s hat. 

“Oh, Elphie,” she heard herself say as if from far away, “You would have loved it...Madame Morrible’s gone, she’s in a prison camp in the Vinkus - the Wizard’s left Oz for good.”

For good. 

The single phrase, reminiscent of Elphaba’s - of their final song, hung in the air before Glinda. She fell to her knees, and the hat was once more only a crown, only a cold piece of sculpted metal instead of the warmly familiar hat. She gasped for air past the lump in her throat and fell to her knees, casting the crown away like so much garbage, useless, damned thing - 

Shadows danced around her, shouts echoed in her ears - and she heard once again Elphaba’s dying shriek…

“Elphie!” Glinda cried. Her heart thudded, burning in panic. 

But then she saw once again their final song, and she could almost feel soft skin under her fingers, and it mattered not what color it was, because she could see her eyes, Elphaba’s chocolate eyes warm only for her, and their voices twining intimately.

And she saw the train room, but only in flashes, because Elphaba was there, and everywhere, all over her, and she had never felt so safe nor so loved in her life; everyone else loved her as Glinda the Good Witch, Elphaba loved her as Glinda. The train was cold but they were not, huddling together and watching Oz pass by them, had she only known what was to come - 

But in the end she had stood, helpless to stop that girl from tossing the bucket of water on the witch, unable to do anything but crouch frozen and listen as her friend, her love died not fifty yards away. How had things gone so wrong? Glinda could not recall - it seemed her memory had constricted, the memories with Elphie the only ones worth remembering. If only she had known, perhaps she could have - 

But of course she couldn’t have, this was Elphaba. Ozma herself couldn’t have diverted her path once she set foot to it. And Glinda had loved her for it. Once she had hoped perhaps their path might lay together. But then they had so foolishly gone to the Wizard...and Elphaba had flown free, but Glinda had stayed. Why in Oz’s name had she stayed? Glinda was so foolish, and she hated herself for it. 

Self-loathing curled in her chest like a snake wound around her heart, determined to choke the last bit of life out of her worthless corpse. She stumbled to her window seat and flung the window open, night air cool on her face drying her tears. 

“Elphaba, you wicked thing,” she whispered, but she didn’t mean it. If anyone was wicked, it was she. “Elphie, I am...so sorry.” 

“Glinda, look at me.” 

The pale witch opened her eyes blearily. It seemed a ghost or an apparition had settled by her, brown eyes awash with moonlight. 

“Elphie?” 

“Yes.” It was her voice alright, blunt but without its usual edge. “Glinda, I - are you crying?” 

Glinda only harrumphed weakly in answer. 

“Oh, Glin, no. I’m not dead - it was all a fake, so I could get out of Oz safely with Fiyero.”

“Guess where I am? Didn’t seem to work,” Glinda said hoarsely. 

“I - they found us. Fiyero is dead.” Elphie bit her lip. 

“And you?”

Elphie did not answer.

“Why are you here.” 

“To see you.” Elphaba searched her gaze. 

Glinda’s lips parted in shock. “After all this time, Elphie?”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come earlier. It was only after I left with Fiyero that I realized...I left half my heart behind.” 

“Fiyero was meant to be that half.”

“He wasn’t.” 

Glinda realized what she was saying. 

“Elphie…”

“I’ve lost so many. Dr. Dillamond, Nessa, Fiyero...I don’t want to add you to the list.”

“You already have, you wicked thing! How could you? I would have helped, I could have cleared your name - “ Glinda exploded.

“You know why I could not let you do that.”

“I know but - you didn’t need to die for it. Damn you Elphie, you’re smarter than that.” 

“But I didn’t die for it. I’m here now, Glinda - and I’m ready.” Elphaba stood and held out her hand; her broom flew in the window to her waiting hand. She straddled it and held out her hand for Glinda. 

Glinda gaped up at her.

“Elphie, what are you planning to do?” 

“I’ve found a safe place, far from here. Fiyero was too scared to fly so we had to go on foot, that’s why he was caught.”

Glinda stood, remembering the first time Elphaba had done this. Then, she had been too scared, there had been too much she thought she could not lose.

Now she realized she didn’t care. There was only one thing she cared about losing. 

“I love you, Elphaba Thropp.” 

“As do I, Glinda Upland.”

Their lips met without another word, and it was fire, it was light, it was not only voices now but bodies meeting and twining together in harmony.

No one ever saw either witch again. Stories were told, as they will; but they were only ever whispers of the dark witch and the light, bringers of good, forever entwined. 

…

Just you and I  
defying gravity…  
They’ll never bring us down.


End file.
